It's SingleTails! The days and nights, hopes and dreams, musings and obsessions, RBIs and strike outs, whips and chains, meatloaf and scalloped potatoes...
...of one leatherman.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

The Baron To The Rescue!

Yesterday, none other than the Baron paid a visit to me on the porch of Starbucks in Doylestown, Pennsylvania!

Typical of when the Baron and I get together, it was a non-stop chatter'plosion from the minute he landed. (Well, from the minute he got back from borrowing my Starbucks beverage so he could use the restroom.)

Among the topics covered...

• His Sister, a former federal prosecutor, with whom he's on the outs right now;• The kids on the porch of Starbucks who annoy me to no end this year;• Free market capitalism (the Baron quibbles with my Job Search : Dating analogy in that with the disappearance of anything like job security thanks to Ronald Reagan, employees aren't like people in a marriage, their like prostitutes. E.g., "Twenty dollars for a blow job? Huh. I can get a blowjob from that crack whore over there for five dollars. So see ya." • My inability to remember my dreams, which the Baron feels is a deep flaw of mine;• The restraining order obtained against a pedophile in Southern California for what is essentially a Thought Crime, in that the guy claims that he recognizes the fact that it would be terrifically disadvantageous of him to act on his impulses, but still enjoys watching girls and thinking about having sex with them (both I and the Baron feel this whole Thing about child molesters is wildly out of control);• The welding job I have an interview for tomorrow;• Mad Men;• The Closer;• Going to funerals just in order to See And Be Seen (we're both against that);• La Colombe coffee;• Albanians;• Mohammed Kharzai (who I feel is very Hot for a world leader, and I want to get one of those hats);• Over-hyped restaurants (The Baron: "Let's be clear, this so-called "art" of your chefs is deposited in a toilet four hours or so after people leave your restaurant, so essentially, you're in the business of making shit.");• Jersey City;• The Class War in Chestnut Hill;• The propensity of former Philadelphia Police Commissioners to become Los Angeles Police Commissioners;• Why the Baron wouldn't hang with me if I were wearing a dashiki or a caftan in public as I've wanted to do for years;• How ironic it was that prior to our meeting the Baron had left home without washing his hair and I had left home without moisturizing; and, last but not least,• the Bend Over Boyfriend phenomenon, whereby heterosexual men everywhere are discovering the pleasures of taking it up the butt courtesy of their girlfriends donning stap-on dildos.

Also (I know! Can you believe there's an "also?"), the Baron graciously permitted me to do My Very First Tarot Card Reading For A Person Not Myself. And it was a really interesting lay of the cards.

The Baron and I also cleared the air a bit on the tension in our relationship that started with our trip up to NYC for Gay Pride back in June. You might recall that the Baron was Four Hours Late.

At about 8 p.m., we opted for something to eat, so we headed down to Centre Bridge to partake of the excellent hot dogs and coffee milkshakes proferred by the formidable Dilly's Corner.